17. Family First
Family First
Ask your father what kind of man Damiano was. You’ll never have to ask me to protect you, but I always will.
Istared at the unread text for a full five minutes before groaning in frustration and hitting delete on the message thread.
I knew sending Piero Damiano’s bloody ear was risky, and there was a chance he’d be honest with Aria about what I’d done, but I would never hide the fact that I’d destroy anyone who had any intention of harming her.
The sooner she accepted that, the better.
But until she trusted me, I couldn’t incriminate myself by confessing anything her father could use as evidence.
Hushed voices and a girly giggle caught my attention from the hallway.
I narrowed my eyes at the door, straining to hear the clumsy sounds moving past my bedroom.
By the time I’d arrived at my family mansion in Verona last night, it was too late to see anyone, so I’d come straight upstairs and crashed.
After making my own home porno for my rebel, of course.
Climbing off the bed, I whipped the door open, wearing only my boxers, to find my seventeen-year-old nephew, Raffaele, sneakily ushering a dishevelled maid, who was at least ten years his senior, out of his room and down the stairs.
When he reappeared, the horny teenager avoided my eyes and messed with his black hair as a distraction. I leaned casually against the door frame with an amused smirk.
“Don’t. She seemed like a good idea at the time,” he mumbled, striding past me back to his room, his shoulders bunched. I smirked, following him as he fell face-first onto his mattress and groaned.
“They always do,” I chuckled, flicking on the light, which made him moan again and bury his head under his pillow.
I picked up an empty bottle of one of Gio’s finest whiskeys off of Raff’s bedside table.
It should have been safely locked in Gio’s office.
“When they told her to tuck you in and give you a bottle… I don’t think this is what they meant. ”
“As if you've never screwed a maid.”
He had me there. But teasing him was too entertaining. “Genuinely curious whether she was meant to read you a bedtime story.”
“Piss off, please.”
“I hope you covered your cock. Does she realise she’d be raising a baby with a baby?”
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m your anxiety, self-loathing, and deep conscience.”
“I don’t have any of those things.”
“Exactly.”
“What will it take to make you leave and keep your mouth shut?”
I smirked. “I’ll keep this to myself, but you’ll owe me.”
“Whatever.”
“Drink some water and open a window. You fucking stink.”
He responded with a grunt as I shut his door, chuckling to myself because, Cristo, it was like travelling back in a time machine.
Being seventeen was fun but equally awful.
Chasing any thrill to feel alive, whether it was girls, picking a fight, or riding fast bikes.
Clearly, not much had changed, except that now I was only interested in chasing one woman for the rest of my life.
“Zio Sani!” Liliana came hurtling down the stairs from her parents’ floor, with Liv close behind.
My twenty-three-year-old niece beamed at me, throwing herself into my arms. Unlike her brother, Liliana was as fresh as a daisy and lit up every room she entered with her bubbly nature. “When did you get here?”
“Last night,” I replied, kissing Olivia on both cheeks and stepping back from them both. “I didn’t want to wake anyone, so I went straight to bed. I came to see Mamma. How is she?”
Liv’s face shifted into an expression that made my chest tighten. She sighed, pressing her lips together and shrugging. “Good days and bad. She was asking for you a lot yesterday.”
The onslaught of emotions I’d tried to keep buried hit me all at once. Guilt for not being there when she needed me. Relief that she was still asking for me. And anger and fear that one day, in the not-so-distant future, she’d stop.
“I’ll get dressed and go see her in a minute.”
Liv looked at me with sadness in her eyes and a small smile. “She’ll like that. She’s often better in the mornings. She should be in good spirits.”
“Then I won’t keep her waiting.” I nodded, swallowing hard, and backed towards the bedroom.
“Sani?”
I paused, turning back to face her. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, somehow knowing.
Liv had always known when I needed one of her hugs.
I closed my eyes, hugging her back and resting my chin on top of her head.
I no longer fit in her arms as I used to, but she’d always fit in mine.
If it hadn’t been for this woman, I knew I wouldn’t be half the man I am today.
She nurtured a softer, more sensitive side of me.
She showed me there was strength in being vulnerable and in always following your heart.
Without her, the darkness within me would have led me through this life.
But I like to think she taught me how to let the light in and see my darkness as a tool, not a guide.
She released me and peered up at my face, stroking a hand down my cheek.
“I know you find seeing Cecilia like this difficult and that you feel guilty for not being here more. I know Elenora feels the same, but please don’t.
Cecilia wants you to carry on living your life.
Honestly, I’m more concerned about Raya right now. ”
“Raya?” I frowned. “Why?”
“Because she isn’t living hers. After we lost Marco last year, she threw herself into being your mamma’s main carer, and I’m worried it’s taking its toll on her.
You know what Raya’s like. She won’t ever complain, but she rarely leaves Cecilia’s side.
She doesn’t make time for herself, and she needs to take a break.
She’s so reserved and sad all the time. I’m worried.
She’s become even more withdrawn recently.
She doesn’t open up to anyone but you. You moving to Rome was really hard for her, and then Marco’s passing and Cecilia’s diagnosis.
It’s been a lot. Gio and I have tried talking to her about hiring professional help to care for Cecilia and ease the load, but she won’t hear of it. Perhaps you could talk to her?”
“Sure. I’ll speak to her. Don’t worry.”
“Grazie. And you know I’m always here for you, don’t you?”
I gave a small smile. “I do. Always.”
“Okay then. How long will you be staying for?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll see how today goes.”
“Okay, well, you know, we’d love to have you for as long as you want to stay in the madhouse. I think we all need a bit of Sani in our lives right now.”
“To add more chaos to the carnage?”
“Of course. It’s how we thrive.”
I paused at the door of my mamma’s quarters in the mansion, gathering myself.
Before she was diagnosed two years ago, we’d all noticed the forgetfulness, the moments of confusion, and the subtle personality changes, but had put them down to aging and her bipolar nature.
But after she was diagnosed with dementia, it was hard not to panic before every visit.
I knew the day would come when I knocked on her door, and she wouldn’t know who I was. It would destroy me.
I knocked lightly, then turned the handle and entered. I glanced around the living room until I spotted her in her favourite chair by the window. Her eyes brightened with recognition, and I felt all the air flood from my lungs in one long breath of relief.
“Oh, hello, Sweetheart,” she gushed, using the chair arms to pull herself to her feet to greet me. I rushed over, trying not to make it too obvious that I didn’t trust she wouldn’t fall, and kissed both her cheeks before easing her back into the chair.
“Mamma, you look beautiful as always,” I said with a smile, taking the seat beside her.
She swatted her hand at me. “Oh, Sani. Always the charmer of the family, just like your papi.”
I smiled wider, knowing I had the woman I had grown up loving with me at this moment, because she hadn’t gone a day in her life without comparing me to my father.
And I lived for it. I was four years old when he was murdered protecting Mamma, so all I had of him were photographs and her stories.
For years, she couldn’t even talk about him without it sending her into depression, but then she got better, and I learned all about the great man I strived to be.
Selfishly, that was one of the things about this situation I dreaded most. That she’d stop remembering to share those stories.
“How are you, Mamma?”
“Oh, so-so.” She smiled, patting down the silk scarf wrapped around her neck. “How are you, Tesoro? How is Rome?”
“Very well.” I wouldn’t dare burden her with my problems, but there was something I’d been dying to tell her. “I’ve met someone… the woman of my dreams.”
Her whole face softened. “Oh, my boy. That’s wonderful! What’s her name?”
“Arianna.” I couldn’t help but fucking beam when I said it.
Mamma repeated it slowly, with a whimsical tone, as if she approved.
“Very pretty.” Then her smile dropped, replaced by a sudden shift of confusion and worry as she glanced back at me. “Have I met her?”
“No, Mamma,” I said, taking her hand in mine with a reassuring smile. “Not yet. But soon.”
“Oh, bravo,” she said, her whole body relaxing in the knowledge that she hadn’t forgotten, while something deep inside me ached. I squeezed her hand a little tighter.
“Would you like to see a photo of her?”
“Si! What a question, Sani! Let me see who has stolen my baby’s heart.”
I chuckled, pulling out my phone and opening my photo gallery to choose one of the many pictures I’d secretly taken of Aria over the last few days. I glanced up to find Mamma frowning and looking around for something she’d lost.
“What has she done with them?” she snapped, her tone laced with frustration. “She keeps moving all my things, Sani.”
“Who? What are you looking for?”
“Raya. She keeps moving my things. My… you know… the things I wear… the things to see with… with the holes.”